


Something Wicked This Way Comes

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi, Vampire!Shiro, Werewolf!Keith, Wizard!Lance, shklance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-22 09:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: Keith and Shiro are out on a nighttime run but haven’t returned and Lance is getting antsy. He decides it’s time to go find them, only to discover they’ve been kidnapped.





	1. Midnight Run

**Author's Note:**

> Lance is a wizard, Keith is a werewolf, and Shiro is a vampire.
> 
> Based on [this art from MultiE](https://twitter.com/MultiEleonora96/status/1146575026336030727)! Definitely check it out! Xoxoxo

It wasn't like Keith and Shiro to be running late and each tick of the antique clock that had been long ago shoved between _'Magical Runes of New Altea'_ and _'Il Grande Libro di Draghi Fluviali'_ on Lance's massive bookshelf made his eye twitch.

He sighed, dropping three crystals ranging different hues of purple into a wooden bowl on his workbench. Lance's back spasmed as he stood and he stretched his long limbs, his cat Salem darting between his ankles, grumpy he'd been disturbed from his slumber atop Lance's feet.

Lance looked down at the cat, fishing his phone from his pocket to see if there were any texts or missed calls.

"No sign of them. Guess I'd better go after 'em, huh, boy?"

Salem's gold eyes were apathetic as he walked in three circles before curling up in his favorite spot on Shiro's oversized chair.

“Helpful, as per usual,” Lance said, flicking his eyes to the ceiling with a grin. “Be good while I’m gone.”

“Mow.”

Lance grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder, the satchel resting comfortably at his hip. He dug around until he found his keys and stepped out into the cool night air, locking the door to the cottage behind him.

He swapped the keys for a cigarette. It took him a moment to open the tin case and stuff a single stick into the long stem he kept tucked inside his jacket. The cherry flared orange in the darkness before him, and Lance sucked in the spicy smoke and let it out with a sigh.

The night was clear, affording Lance a perfect view of the low crescent moon and sparkling stars dotting the sky. Keith and Shiro had gone on a run with Lance’s blessing. It was vital for them to expel as much energy as possible. It helped control their urges.

But they’d been gone too long and supernatural creatures were still hunted regularly, giving Lance cause for concern. At best, they were having trouble controlling their urges and were romping around the forest. At worst, kidnapped by another magic user for an archaic spell that would no doubt involve a slow, torturous death.

Lance sucked in a breath of smoke and blew it out in a long stream, the smoke creating a hazy cloud in front of him. He snatched the stem of his cigarette holder and writing across the smoke with the burning tip to cast a tracking spell.

Gold symbols sparked in the smoke, suspended and sizzling, until they crackled, slithering until they transformed into a single buzzing hummingbird.

Lance waved off the smoke and the hummingbird flitting over to hover in front of him. He took one last drag of his cigarette before snuffing it beneath his boot and returning the holder to its rightful place behind his ear.

Lance walked over to where his dirt bike was propped up next to the cottage and got on.

“Lead the way,” he told the bird, the bike rumbling beneath him.

The bird zipped off and Lance followed, speeding along the dirt path that lead to the nearby forest. He wasn’t surprised when the bird ducked between the trees, carefully dodging boulders and fallen logs in the undergrowth as he followed the spellbound hummingbird deeper into the woods.

The orange trail of sparks falling behind it helped Lance keep track of its movement. Debris kicked up around him and he was thankful he still had his glasses on to protect his eyes.

It was only a few minutes later that the hummingbird began to pulse, growing bigger as it reached its target.

Lance drove into a clearing in the middle of the woods, a perfectly circular meadow. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He looked up only to find the sky pitch dark, the moon and stars nowhere to be found.

The hummingbird rocketed into the air and exploded into a magnificent flare, illuminating the clearing well enough for Lance to make moving shapes in the distance.

He rode his bike across the field, skidding to a stop a few feet away from a scene that set his blood aflame.

A hooded figure stood next to a small, emerald green fire, its tall shadow falling across the writhing body of Keith. Shiro was on the other side of the fire, gagged and strapped to a wooden frame that held his arms out wide. His legs were also bound and his throat chained to the top of the wood.

The light of Lance’s motorbike spilled across them and the hooded figure turned toward the commotion, face still blurred in shadow.

Lance leapt from his bike, his hands already slashing across the air in front of him as the blue light of his inner magic cast another spell, this one sending a shockwave at the stranger.

The figure jumped back and Lance was running, positioning himself in front of Keith.

“Who the hell are you?” Lance asked, pulling his cigarette holder down and fishing for a cigarette to fill it with.

His gaze darted over to Shiro and he winced at the enchanted chain around his neck as it melted into his skin. He snapped his fingers and a spark of blue magic zinged across the fire, slicing through the chain and other restraints.

“Who am I?” The stranger responded, taking a step toward Shiro, who had fallen onto his hands, his breath coming in harsh pants. “What a pithy question coming from a human. Your perverse use of magic is an insult to everything I stand for. Insolence as such will not be tolerated.”

Lance lit his cigarette, eyes back on the attacker.

“Oh, you gotta be a faerie,” Lance said, puffing out a small cloud of smoke. He wrote out another spell with his cigarette, blowing it at the stranger.

His breath because a gust of wind that whipped around the stranger’s hood, tugging it off to reveal a man with tumbling white hair and purple skin.

“Ha! I knew it.”

Lance took another drag off his cigarette. He could hear Keith on the ground behind him, no long writhing but still curled in a tight ball.

“Allow me to wipe that cocky grin off your face,” the faerie said, his amethyst eyes burning with hatred as he lunged forward.

A beam of purple energy exploded from the faerie’s right hand, forming a sword that he pointed directly at Lance’s heart.

Lance dodged the attack, spinning to the side and narrowly avoiding the fire. The faerie lunged again and Lance swiped his hand near the flame, causing a spiral of fire to leap up.

The faerie flipped backwards out of the flame's reach, his robes fluttering around him as he landed gracefully on his feet.

"I will give you one last chance to back down as you clearly don't understand the implications of your actions."

Shiro stumbled to his feet behind Lance, bracing his hands on his knees as the wounds around his neck healed themselves.

Keith was still wincing in pain, but he'd managed to stand, one hand curled protectively around his ribs.

"Enlighten me, then," Lance replied.

"I am Lotor, prince of the undead faeries and these two are my bounty."

"The undead faeries, huh?" Lance asked sardonically. "I don't give a shit what kind of prince you are, but you're barking up the wrong tree."

Lance blew out a cloud of smoke as Keith and Shiro flanked his sides.

"They're mine," Lance said, eyes narrowed as he stared down the enemy.

He drew a spell with his cigarette and the orange characters morphed into a snake. It rippled through the air and circled Lotor's throat.

Lance stepped forward, Lotor's eyes bulging as the snake constricted.

"Listen up, princey. These woods and the creatures in 'em are under my protection."

Lance snuffed his cigarette out in Lotor's cloak.

"I think it's best that you get the fuck out and never come back."

Lance snapped his fingers and the snake dropped Lotor, who crumpled to the ground.

"This isn't over," the faerie prince hissed.

He closed his eyes and a purple glow emitted from his fingertips before he vanished in a swirl of thick, black smoke.

Lance let out a sign of relief, turning to check Shiro and Keith for damage.

"Looks like you made a new friend," Lance said, reaching into his bag for a small jar of salve and spreading some on their wounds.

"He's been tracking us for a while," Shiro bit out, rubbing tentative fingers over the pale scars around his throat.

They'd fade completely in a few days time.

"Bastard had a trap waiting. Wanted us for some ritual that supposedly opens the gate to another dimension."

"Are you alright?" Lance asked, his hand cupping Keith's cheek.

"I'm fine," Keith replied gruffly, averting his gaze, his fluffy ears falling flat against his skull.

"I'm glad you made it in time," Shiro said.

"Me, too," Lance replied.

They sank into a group hug, holding each other up, their bodies pressed together in the empty field.

"We better get back," Shiro said and Lance nodded in agreement.

He picked up his bike and started it up.

This time, there was no hummingbird to guide him, just the wolf on his left and the vampire on his right.

_This isn't over._

Lotor's words rang in his head but Lance wasn't scared. He didn't care if an entire army of undead faeries came after him, he wasn't about to let anything happen to his little family, the loves of his life.

His blue eyes sparked in the darkness.

Whatever threats were on the horizon, Lance would protect what was his.


	2. New Kid on the Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOh hehehe this is now becoming a chapter fic!!! Credit to Ele for her awesome AU!

The sky was smudged with the gray-blue of dawn when they finally returned to the cottage.

Lance parked his motorbike and wasted no time putting a kettle on the stove, lighting it’s logs with a snap of his fingers. He rummaged around the kitchen, fishing out jars of tea he'd developed for Shiro and Keith. 

During the day, Shiro went dead with sleep, but even though his body was under, his mind raced with nightmares. Lance concocted a blend of black tea and lavender that helped calm his mind.

Keith, on the other hand, required a special mixture of chamomile and wolfsbane. The toxicity would be too much for a normal human, but for a hybrid like Keith it mainly served to help him control his shifting.

By the time the kettle let out a shrill whistle, Shiro and Keith had both showered and changed. Keith sometimes accompanied Lance to the Blue Lion — the tea and herbal shop he owned in town. 

The shop was open 24/7 but Lance had help so he could take a break and spend time with Shiro in his awake hours.

Shiro was restricted to the cottage where a spell kept out the sunlight. Lance was still working on an amulet that would allow Shiro to be fully exposed to the sun, but he still hadn't gotten the right balance of ingredients.

Lance set steaming mugs down in front of Shiro and Keith where they sat at a small, round table. 

“Alright, you two,” he said, shrugging off his cloak. “What the hell happened tonight? I specifically remember telling you two to stay away from that clearing.”

Lance snapped his fingers again and the hook on the back of the door sprang to life, splitting into two beetles and buzzing over to grab the cloak and hang it up.

Keith grumbled into his cup while Shiro rubbedhis nape, clearing his throat to break the awkward silence.

“We were out for a run,” Shiro explained, his pale hands cupping his mug. “Things were fine but then a deer ran across our path."

"It was a trap," Keith said, setting his empty mug down with a heavy clank. 

How he managed to drink such hot things so quickly, Lance would never know. Maybe it was a werewolf. He'd have to ask the next one that came into the shop.

"The deer smelled amazing. Better than any animal," Shiro continued. 

He'd given up drinking human blood and resorted to animals when he was desperate. Lance was still hoping he could find a proper substitute. Shiro wasn't starving, but his sunken eyes and too-sharp cheekbones indicated he wasn't healthy either.

"That thing was waiting for us. He chained Shiro up before we even knew what was happening. Said he required a sacrifice."

Lance went between them as they spoke, checking them for injuries and applying medicinal herbs when necessary. All in all, they were a little banged up but should heal by the day's end.

"I'm glad you're ok," Lance said softly.

He squeezed the back of Keith's neck and carded his other hand through Shiro's hair. Inside, he was still burning with rage. Lotor was dangerous and Lance had no doubt he'd be back again.

"I'm gonna get ready for work," Lance said, standing and shuffling to his bedroom.

He was tired but could make a brew to help with that. The cottage was small, but he'd added on additional bedrooms so they each had their own space — something they were all grateful for. 

Lance closed the door behind him and let out a huff, collapsing back against it. He looked at his bed only to find Salem curled up in his pillow.

"They're back," Lance told the cat. "But it looks like we've got bigger fish to fry out there."

Salem peeked his head up, slowly blinking, his tail swiping back and forth on the mauve pillowcase. 

“Not that kind of fish,” Lance muttered under his breath, changing his shirt into something fun and summery. 

When he was satisfied that he didn’t look as grungy as he felt, lance wandered back to the kitchen.

Shiro was already in bed, the door to his room firmly shut. Shiro was the private sort, and neither Keith nor Lance ventured into his room.

“Are you headed in soon?” Keith asked around a mouthful of cereal, yellow-pink milk dribbling down his chin.

“Yes,” Lance said, grabbing a cloth napkin and tossing at Keith. “And chew with your mouth closed.”

Keith rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. 

“I think you should stay here, though,” Lance added, grabbing a muffin from a basket on the counter. 

He set it on a small plate and put the plate on the iron stove. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Keith grumbled, fingers toying with the gold tag on his collar. 

He’d kicked a fit when Lance first gave it to him, but once Keith saw how effective the magic device was for keeping his shifting under control, he warmed to the idea.

At least a little.

“I’m hardly being ridiculous. You look like shit. You smell like shit. And you’re attitude is shit.”

Lance opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of black liquid. It was an enhanced coffee that Lance doctored with a few choice herbs to make it last longer with a less severe crash. 

It also tasted better than regular coffee in Lance’s opinion.

Keith’s dark brows drew together, his ears twitching. There was dirt smudged on his cheek and a bruise darkening along his temple. 

“I could–“

“Keith,” Lance interrupted him. “I’m barely keeping it together and all I did was cast a few spells. And ride a motorcycle through a pitch black forest. And beat up a member of the immortal fae.”

Keith cracked a smile, shaking his head. 

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Lance continued, voice softening around the edges. “Please, just rest today.”

Lance put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, searching his violet gaze to make sure he understood. 

“Okay. I’ll rest.”

Lance awarded him a soft smile, one he knew Keith was fond of. “Thanks, pup.” 

He ruffled Keith’s hair and Keith swatted his hand away.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be good while I’m gone,” Lance said, slipping on his clogs. He used a blue velvet pouch to transport the muffin and coffee, shrinking them and stuffing them inside the enchanted sack before neatly tucking it in his pocket. “Don’t start shit with Salem.”

As if on cue, the black cat hopped up on the kitchen table, letting out a hiss when it locked eyes with Keith.

Lance chuckled. “I stand by my previous statement.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith repeated, grimacing at the cat before he got up from the table. 

Lance left before he could witness the two fighting, walking to the shed to get his bicycle–his preferred mode of transportation.

It was a fifteen minute ride through the backwoods to get to town, but it was a gorgeous morning. The air was crisp and cool, the sky a blanket of white cotton punctuated with gentle rays of sun. Lance rode through the dappled light, his mind turning over the events of the previous evening. 

There was something about the entire thing that didn’t sit right with him. Some unknown factor lurking on the periphery that he couldn’t quite name.

He pulled up to the Blue Lion, his mind still swirling with an opaque sense of dread. Lance wheeled his bike around back to the employee entrance, pressing his hand against the door so the spell he’d inscripted on it would swing the door open, a character burning into the wood with gold script as it recognized him. 

Lance brought his bike in to the small office he used to conduct most of the shop business with a capital B. His desk was organized chaos with stacks of paper and hand-scrawled notes stuck every which way.

“––if I’m making a giant mistake?”

“Buddy, you gotta take about three steps back. It’s seven in the morning and I am in no mood to hear any more about your love life.”

Lance could hear Pidge’s voice through the curtain of wooden beads that separated the front of house from the back. He walked past tall shelves filled with jars of different herbs and teas, ducking beneath the drying sprigs hanging from the ceiling. 

“I just think if he cheated on me once, she’s bound to do it again, ya know?” The person continued, completely ignoring Pidge. 

Lance could hear Pidge’s irritated groan as he made his way to the back of the store where a large glass case house some of their fine metal tea pots and cups, as well as the sleek cash register that was really just a money draw and an iPad. 

That singular device was the most modern thing about the shop, thanks to Pidge.

“Listen. Jackass. I told you already that I’m not in the mood. Either buy something or get out, this shop isn’t here for your relationship woes.”

“Although we do have an excellent tea for that in aisle two,” Lance said, circling to the back of the counter to face the customer, who thanked Lance and went to sift through the tea leaves. “Jackass? Really?”

Lance turned to stare at Pidge with a quizzical quirk of his brow. She was perched on an old lifeguard’s chair that she’d remade, covering the cushion with plush green velvet. Her amber hair was buzzed at the sides with riotous curls spilling over her brow, flicking against gold-rimmed glasses. 

Behind her, puffy white wings were folded neatly, but they were so large it was impossible to mistake her for anything other than a cherub.

“You know I’m not here to be anybody’s matchmaker. That lovey dovey stuff is gross. Do you want me to bark all over the counter?”

Lance couldn’t help the grin that curved his lips.

“I know, I know. Thanks for covering the night shift, Pidge. Turns out some weird shit went down last night.”

Lance regaled Pidge with the incident from the night before over his muffin and coffee, which he reluctantly shared with Pidge. A few customers came and went, the two of them still turning over the available information, trying to figure out what could have prompted Lotor to attack.

The wooden beads clinked and Lance and Pidge looked up as Allura approached.

“Good morning!” She said brightly, her white hair braided in an intricate plait that was overflowing with tiny flowers. 

“Hey, Allura,” Lance replied with a smile.

“Morning,” Pidge said, adjusting her glasses. “How’s it going with you?”

“Lovely!” As she spoke, a trio of pastel mice scrambled from her hair and ran down her arms to jump on the counter. “I just met the most beautiful man at Oriande.”

Oriande was the name of a fancy pastry shop and cafe around the corner from the Blue Lion.

“Ooh, way to bury the lede,” Lance said. “Tell us more.”

“Well, he’s actually moving to town. He and his mom are opening a parfumerie right next door!”

“Huh,” Pidge said. “I guess that makes sense. Maybe they’ll shop here for some of their ingredients.”

“You know I’m all about getting that paper,” Lance said, making the money sign with his fingers. “When does it open.”

“Hmm, sometime next month I think. They just arrived in town yesterday, so I imagine it’s going to take them some time to get set up. I told them to stop by when they have a chance!”

“Sounds like you’re really stuck on this guy,” Pidge said, wings fluttering as they hopped down and stretched. “What’s his name anyway?”

“Oh,” Allura said, a ray of light haloed around her garden of hair as she cocked her head to the side with the force of her grin. “Lotor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my ramblings, come find me on Twitter! @NihilistShiro


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Pidge break the news to Allura about Lotor and they quickly develop a plan. Meanwhile, Lance checks in on his boys to see how they're holding up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEk!! Still obsessed with this AU from Ele xoxoxoxoxox!!

Allura deflated when Lance told her about Lotor and their run-in the previous night, the unbridled joy on her face wilting as realization sank in. Lance and Pidge both knew that Allura was trying to meet someone that she could grow a romantic connection with, and they comforted her over.

As a woodland nymph, Allura spent her youth living a solitary life in a beautiful forest, protecting the flora and fauna. It was never lonely because she was always surrounded by nature’s many creatures. 

But one summer a fire ravaged the forest and Allura was left homeless. She’d stumbled into the Blue Lion looking like a zombie that had been wandering the Earth for 10,000 years — tired and hungry, and suffering more than a few burns.

Lance and Pidge had nursed her back to health, taking her on as an additional helper at the Blue Lion. Most nights, Allura transformed into a beautiful potted orchid that graced the Blue Lion’s window display, and others she stole away to find solitude in a nearby forest or park.

“Are you sure?” Allura asked, disappointment crawling like ivy over her features.

“One hundred percent,” Lance said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Allura.”

“I’m sorry, too. I was supposed to go for coffee with him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, eh?” Pidge asked, exchanging a knowing look with Lance.

“Yes?” Allura said, one snowy brow quirked.

“Allura, we need to find out what Lotor and his mother have planned.” Lance’s eyes were frosted over with cool anger. “We can’t just let them run wild, killing off supernatural creatures.”

“Agreed,” Pidge added. “Which is why I’m creating a tracking device that you can plant on Lotor when you meet him for coffee tomorrow.”

“What?!” Allura’s mouth dropped, her head already shaking.

“We need more intel and we’re not gonna get it from the horse’s mouth,” Pidge said. She pulled a small book out of her pocket, flipping it open to a blank page and pulling a pen from behind her ear.

“I don’t really know if I’m comfortable seeing him again,” Allura said, glancing down Pidge’s hands as she began sketching up a design for her machine.

Lance offered her a small smile, adjusting his glasses. “I have a feeling that it’s gonna require all of us to stop them. If you can place the tracker on your coffee date, Keith and Shiro can follow it. Without this in, it’s gonna be a lot difficult.”

“The probability of us getting another chance to infiltrate their operation before they realize who we are and that you and Lance are connected is low,” Pidge added. “We should jump on it.”

Allura sighed but squared her shoulders, the flowers in her hair changed from soft pastels to dark jewel tones. 

“If this is what it’s gonna take to make sure we’re all safe, I’ll do it.”

“Better get started then,” Pidge said, a maniacal grin curling her mouth.

It took Pidge less than an hour to create the device, her work spurred on by caffeine and a cinnamon roll Allura brought from the cafe. The little gadget was no bigger than an ant, black and discreet. It had six legs and antenna and it crawled around in Pidge’s palm.

“This is it?” Allura asked, holding out her hand when Pidge offered the tracker to her. “I hope I don’t lose it.”

“Here,” Pidge said, handing her a tiny glass vile from behind the shop counter. “Keep it in this until it’s time.”

“Thanks for doing this Pidge,” Lance said.

“My pleasure. If these fuckers are gonna threaten my friends, you better believe I’m gonna help take ‘em down.”

Lance and Allura shared a grin.

“Alright, now I just have to fill in Shiro and Keith so they can come up with a plan for tailing Lotor.”

“Do you think they’ll have a problem with it?” Allura asked.

“Not necessarily, but I can imagine they’re still shaken up from their near-death experience and probably don’t wanna be within a hundred feet of that jerk.”

“Ya think?” Pidge said, her wings flapping. “I’d be so pissed if someone tried to sacrifice me for an ancient incantation.”

“So would I,” Allura added. “There’s just one little thing I need help with, actually. Something I was going to talk to you about before this whole business with Lotor and undead faeries and everything…” 

She waved her hand and petals drifted off her fingertips, baby pink and sparkling in the afternoon light. 

“I just don’t know how to interact with another, erm, being, when you go on a d-date. Thing. Date thing.” She was blushing furiously by the time she finally spat it out. 

Lance grinned and Pidge snickered, walking over to the kitchenette in the corner of the shop to pour more coffee into her  _ DEATH BEFORE DECAF  _ mug. 

“Well, lucky for you I am a master of romance,” Lance said to Allura, winking dramatically and shifting his shoulders so that the light would catch his glittering top.

“Master my ass,” Pidge muttered, sliding a sardonic look at Lance. “If it’s love advice you’re after, I’m the person you need to be talking to.” She adjusted the magic leather jacket Lance made her that split around her wings when she put it on. “What with me being a cupid and all.”

“Then I shall consider myself lucky to have two excellent tutors,” Allura said.

“The Dream Team,” Lance put an arm around Allura’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug. 

He tried to grab Pidge too, but she squawked and jumped out of his way, her eyes narrowed amber slits.

They spent the next few hours going over the basics of dating and courtship and Allura sat patiently and absorbed everything she could. There were even a few customers who chimed in to impart some wisdom, including a troll who claimed to be married for over 160 years and two young witches whose sweet giggles and high school uniforms matched their naive understanding of romance. 

The sun was starting to sink and Lance checked his phone, his lips quirking into a frown when he saw he had no new messages or calls from Shiro and Keith.

“I better get going,” he said. “I feel like I should probably make sure the boys are still alive.”

“Good call,” Pidge said, climbing back up to her perch. Pidge preferred to work her thirty hours a week all in one fell swoop—something Lance couldn’t wrap his brain around. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Allura took a break, but she would be staying with Pidge, spending her night as a flower in the window. 

“See ya,” Lance said, eager to get on the road. 

It was dusk by the time he made it back to the cottage and there were lights on inside, so someone was awake. 

Salem was waiting for him at the door and twirled around his ankles as he stripped off his jacket and hung it on a hook fashioned to look like a tree branch. Lance picked up the cat and nuzzled his face into Salem’s black fur, making his way into the kitchen.

Keith was sitting at the table, mouth full of a cheeseburger, tail thumping against his chair. Shiro was in the chair across from him, leaning back and watching Keith eat as he nursed a cup of his special brew.

“Hey, guys,” Lance said with a small smile, Salem lounging contentedly in his arms. “How’re you feeling?”

Keith grunted around his food and Shiro offered a shrug. Sometimes dating monsters meant dealing with poor communication skills. 

“I just got up,” Shiro said, “and Keith already had dinner on the table, so I’m gonna go off on a limb and say we’re feeling just peachy.”

He was dressed in a pair of Keith’s sweatpants and an old t-shirt for a metal band with the sleeves trimmed off. There were no bruises across Shiro’s skin, but white lines were marking his throat where the silver had cut him.

Lance swallowed hard, resisting the urge to gather Shiro up in his arms and comfort him. He turned to Keith, who was washing down his burger with a soda. 

“What about you? Any trouble while I was gone?”

Keith put down his drink and looked to Shiro, who nodded. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Keith said, “but Shiro thinks I should show this to you.”

His chair scraped against the wood floor as he stood. Keith lifted the hem of his red sweatshirt to reveal a purple scrape across his ribs. It looked like a scab that tunneled beneath his flesh, creating black welts along its edges.

“What the fuck?!” Lance dropped Salem on the table, who grunted indignantly. “When did this happen?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Keith said. “When you checked me over last night, it looked like a normal scratch.”

“Fuck,” Lance muttered, washing his hands so he could delicately probe the wound.

Keith winced at his touch. “Ouch! Be careful, asshole.”

Lance shot him a hard look before returning to his task.

“This is not good,” he said.

“What is it?” Shiro asked, coming to stand behind Keith, who leaned against Shiro’s chest.

Lance thought it was cute that Shiro was the only person Keith was submissive to. He leaned and cuddled on Shiro often. Perhaps it was because Shiro’s strength made him the pack alpha in Keith’s eyes. 

“It’s definitely a curse. Something made from the dark magic Lotor used. Usually, it only affects the magic-user, but in particularly gnarly cases, i.e. last night’s dumpster fire, the magic scarring can impact those close in proximity to it.”

Lance had Keith sit down so he could put a salve on it for the pain. He didn’t voice that magic scars like this were usually deadly, spreading until they killed their host. Instead, he made Keith a special tea that would help him sleep and sent him off to bed.

Only when Lance and Shiro were alone did he mention the tracking device for fear Keith would want to participate.

“The device is ready and Allura’s gonna plant it on Lotor tomorrow when they have coffee.”

Shiro’s face was drawn and serious. “I can do it.”

“I know you can,” Lance said, offering Shiro a shy grin. 

Shiro reached over and kissed Lance softly.

“Don’t you think it’s time you had something real to eat,” Lance said, their faces close.

Shiro’s eyes flicked down to Lance’s throat and back up. “No.” His voice did not offer room for rebuke.

Lance sighed. “Maybe you can eat Lotor.”

Shiro scrunched his nose. “I’m not putting blood from that fucking creep in my system. No thank you.”

Lance chuckled, threading his fingers through Shiro’s messy hair. “I’ll figure something out.”

It was Shiro’s turn to grin. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and for Eleonora for making the inspiring art! 
> 
> For more shenanigans, find me on Twitter >>> [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro).


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